


amor fati

by HunnyLemon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Author is trash for them, DYAD, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond, Good angsty boy Ben Solo, Insert every reverse Ben solo and Kira Ren tag here, PROTECT THEM, They need it, They’re perfect, conflcited and hopeful Kira Ren, sad babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25446961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunnyLemon/pseuds/HunnyLemon
Summary: Ben Solo has been scouring space since the destruction of his Uncle’s Jedi Temple. Ridden with shame over his survival, he believes he has found the ticket to gaining his courage to return home to his parents. But his plans are thrown off course on the abrupt appearance of Kira Ren, who seems to believe that his Uncle is alive.Kira Ren is Supreme Leader Snoke’s silencing right hand. Although her title and lineage grant her a mask of power and dominance, her new mission to return to her home world stirs waves of unnamed fear within her. Upon meeting the gaze of a young man there, who is seemingly Force sensitive, this may be just the beginning of naming and confronting that fear.Set in the time of the Force Awakens, the two must fight the battle that has existed between the Force for generations. The battle for wholeness, the battle for balance.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	1. Jakku

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Please enjoy the story. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I hope it makes someone happy <3 The reason I always loved reylo was for all the psychological components of it, so I hope to mix that into the story. Thanks for reading!!

_“Amor fati is a Latin phrase that may be translated as ‘love of fate’ or ‘love of one’s fate’. It is used to describe_

_an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one’s life, including suffering and_

_loss, as good or, at the very least, necessary, in that they are among the facts of one’s life and_

_existence, so they are always necessarily there whether one likes them or not. Moreover, amor fati is_

_characterized by an acceptance of the events or situations that occur in one’s life.”_

_-Anonymous_

Space was merciless. 

It was everywhere, surrounding them, haunting them—they were all mere guests floating in its depths. The whole lot of the universe was always one wrong move away from demise if Space felt it should be so. 

And Kira Ren knew only this: Space was much like the First Order. 

Her black robes trailed along the metallic command room of the capital ship. She reached the window and looked out on a dusty planet hovering below in the starry abyss. 

Kira shivered.

She turned her head towards the shining stormtrooper on her left. 

“Captain Phasma, prepare for planet fall. Are your troops assembled?” Her voice steel.

The trooper faced her at attention. “Armed and ready, Kira Ren.”

Kira looked back out the window, and a beat of silence passed between the two soldiers.

“Excellent.” 

No one could see Kira Ren’s eyes hidden beneath her masked visage. And no one would ever know, that in that moment, there was fear in them.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Ben Solo hated Jakku—despised it, really. He had been here once before, many years ago, and the place _still_ didn’t agree with him.

He hated the heat, he hated the sand, he hated Niima Outpost, and he _definitely_ hated this asshole Plutt. The filth even happened to _possess_ what Ben had come all this way looking for. 

After years of tracking, he finally found it: the Millenium Falcon. It was trapped in the creature’s cemetery he had the gaul to call a shipyard.

His father’s beloved ship sat beaten and dirty in the sands, rotting away like the rest of the garbage on this planet. Owning it must’ve just been a gimmick to Plutt; a pawn he used to show his dominance in this wasteland.

Ben had watched from the back of the line as scavengers came up with ship parts and other salvaged mechanics to trade with the beast. He eyed some beautiful antique pieces that made his stomach flip in jealousy. Plutt gave measly portions for all of them, even still—at least half of what they were truly worth. 

But each scavenger walked away cradling their meager portions as if they were holding their very lives and not a damn rip-off. The worst part about the whole thing was they probably were holding their lives. Ben cringed, a new anger swelling in his gut. He had never known starvation and the desperation it could cause; he had never had that feral look in his eyes like most of Jakku’s residents had. 

Ben chewed at his cheek and stared ahead. 

The last poor creature ahead of him finished with Plutt and scurried away. Ben approached the booth slowly, reaching the window to stare head-on with the gigantic jack-ass.

At least he would’ve been staring at him if Plutt cared to raise his eyes from the desk.

Ben coughed. “I’d like to make an offer on a ship.”

The oaf still didn’t budge. 

“30,000 credits for the old Corelian Freighter in your yard.” 

Plutt shot up from his reveleries at the mention of such a lump sum of money. He stared at Ben, eyes shifting into slits. 

“That’s a generous offer—it’s a piece of shit and you must know it. All it's doing in your lot is taking up space and collecting sand.”

Plutt‘s lips twitched, and Ben frowned. His eyes flicked over Ben and then towards the saber strapped sneakily over his shoulder. 

“Do I know you, boy? Your face is so familiar, I’m sure I must know you from someplace.” Plutt tapped on the counter idly, a coy smile rearing on his ugly face. 

Ben was familiar with the greedy look that came over scums’ features when they realized who he was.

A string of curses coursed through his mind. He was hoping that in the Outer Rim no one would recognize the missing son of General Leia Organa and Han Solo. And Ben foolishly hoped if they did, they may even cut him some slack. Most people in the galaxy tended to prefer them and their Resistance to Snoke and his Order, anyway. 

What he didn’t think about was that the people out here just preferred to live, and they didn’t give two shits about who they stepped on to succeed at it. 

Ben grinned cooly, regaining his composure, “No, I’m afraid we haven’t had the pleasure. I think I would’ve remembered a face like yours, Unkar Plutt.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm that dripped off his tongue. If his mom were here, she’d tell him he took too much after the _scoundrel_ he called father. Ben flinched a little at the thought. 

Plutt’s face twisted into a grimace.

“You tell your mommy and daddy I want 500,000 credits for the ship.”

Ben’s eye twitched.

“It’s barely worth 20 in the state it’s in! It wasn’t even worth that much when it was ne—”

“500,000 or nothing!” Plutt’s fist pounded onto the counter. 

He noticed Plutt glance again towards the hilt on his back with a hint of fear in his beady eyes. Ben’s hands clenched at his sides.

_No_. _Not even for a prick like you._

He stood taller, “Fine. I’ll be back.”

Plutt’s eyes widened, a slight relief washing over his face, “500,000, boy. Don’t forget it.”

Ben turned his back on Plutt with no intention of offering him any sort of niceties. 

He strode back into the heat of the Jakku day. His dark boots kicked waves of sand ahead of him with each infuriated step.

Ben Solo hadn’t been home in nine years, and he certainly wouldn’t be crawling back for money—even if it was for the Falcon. 

When he reached the Grimtaash, Ben was trying desperately to think of a way to handle this: he could steal it and do his father proud, or he could debate and hassle like his mother, a true politician.

Ben groaned and kicked the sand harder.

He wasn’t like either of them. He wasn’t charming and sly like his father, not genteel and argumentative like his mother—he was just himself. He just wanted to make as little a scene as possible and leave the damn planet.

He marched up the ramp and into the cockpit of his small ship. Ben launched himself into the pilot’s seat and collapsed his head into his hands.

He did have enough credits for the Falcon—barely. He would probably have to do another run to get what was needed for fuel, but Ben could do it. 

Then, maybe, he could finally muster the guts to go home. 

A sad smile played on his lips beneath his hands.

The Grimtaash began to stir gently beneath his boots. He picked his head up and stared at the controls shaking on the panel in front of him. Rumbling purred and rattled the mechanics of his ship harder now; his own desperate hands reached for the arm rests to steady himself. 

And then nothing.

As quick as the disturbance came—it left. Like a breeze. 

An eerie calm remained as Ben lifted his gaze out the window at the desert. Nothing had changed in the scene he saw but—

“That cannot be good.”

Ben raced to the landing ramp once again. He peeked out to the dunes hesitantly. 

“No.” He murmured.

A ship. Dark. With wings that pointed into the sky. It was a First Order command shuttle not two miles away from his own. The ship was planted starkly in the bright sands. White figures pooled around it. A handful stomped towards Niima Outpost. At the head of the walking troopers was one dark-clad leader, masked and gracefully strutting through the golden grains. Ben knew who it was without a second thought. 

Kira Ren. 

A dark-side force user. The dog of Supreme Leader Snoke. Granddaughter of Emperor Palpatine himself. And she was within a stone's throw of his gaze.

Ben stood motionless watching the figure. Wherever she went, Kira Ren brought torment. He had never encountered her, but he knew she was not one to be tried from the murmurs he had heard in his travels.

The small party trailed to Unkar Plutt’s shack that stood lonely against the clear blue sky.

Something awful came into Ben’s mind. Something that may be improbable. He was sure he would rot in hell for even hoping for it—

But he had to bet on it. 

Ben Solo crept out of the Grimtaash, concealing his force signature, and ran back towards that ugly son of a bitch’s hut.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Kira Ren approached the familiar and disgusting hut naturally, like she had never left the horrid place. 

This time, she wasn’t hurrying with spare parts in hand—not dropping her childlike eyes so as not to draw attention. 

Every creature that beheld Kira today at Niima Outpost abandoned their scavenged goods and ran. No one dared to look into her masked face. No one recognized the child that she used to be. 

Kira held her head high as she walked through the decrepit doorway. She motioned for the four troopers who stayed with her to wait outside.

Plutt’s shack was the same as it had always been: messy, filled of junk, and with his own booth sitting prominently in the center. She had spent hours of her life waiting in his line. Now, as she entered, not a soul was between her and her prey. 

There he stood before her: shaking and backing away with no place to run—not now, not from her. 

“How nice it is to be feared, Plutt. I do believe I know how you must feel, now.” Kira casually strolled around the space, not yet looking into the creature’s eyes.

“I-I thought...you said you would never come back.” 

“Oh. And here I thought you never listened to me. At least that’s what you always said.”

“Girl—”

“Someone came here, Plutt. Someone important to the Resistance. Someone looking for the location of Lor San Tekka and a guide to get to him. He paid you quite a deal of credits for the information.” Kira paused, “You’ve not lost your greed these past five years, I see.”

He did not speak, merely gazed at her cloaked form as if he was a carbon frozen trophy.

_Good._

“Tell me. Where is the boy from the Resistance? Who is he and what was he looking for? When did he come? My informant said it was recent, but had no more knowledge than that.” Kira turned towards Plutt, “I will have what I want whether you give it to me or not. For your sake, I suggest you give it.” Her metallic voice clipped as she savored her slow advance. 

“O-of course. Anything. He only came last evening. His name is P-Poe Dameron, said that the old man had something. I-if you go to Lor San Tekka’s now you should be able to reach him, said he was staying with him for a while—I-I swear.”

Kira paused and then snickered coldly. Plutt stood, mouth agape.

“You really haven’t changed have you, you brute? I knew you would trade in any life to save your own skin.”

She kept approaching. Plutt kept retreating, until he hit the wall behind him. 

“You s-said if I, if I-I—“

“I _said_ for your sake, to give it,” Kira reached her palm toward him, “I didn’t say what I would do to you still.”

The force molded to her will, moving Plutt out of the booth and through the air in a violent sweep. He floated before her—paralyzed and defenseless. Horrid and pitiful moans leaked from his mouth.

“Please. Please. Don’t, don’t—I’ll do anything!” Fat tears erupted from his eyes. 

Kira flinched. She dropped Unkar Plutt in front of her on the ground. Little heaves broke free from his mouth, each gasp more desperate than the previous.

“Thank you, y-you were always s-such a g-good girl, Rey, eh?” 

Kira’s sight turned to black, her thoughts forged by static and rage. Visions of days of starvation and cruelty punctuated in her mind’s eye; days of pain at the beckon call of the monster that laid before her. 

She unearthed her saber, two fiery-crimson blades burst from the simple hilt.

“That is not my name.”

She plunged the saber through his back in a quick flurry. Kira watched his mouth open and realization pass through his wide eyes. 

She crouched and leaned into his ear, “Remember that.”

His eyes drifted in shock towards her face. The life left his eyes in moments. He looked more at peace than Rey had ever seen him.

The beams of red light disappeared and she hinged the hilt back to her belt.

Kira Ren remained stooped by the corpse of her once persecutor. She gritted her teeth, pressing her shaking fingers into her palms. 

_It’s done._

Kira finally turned her back on Unkar Plutt’s lifeless form, walking through the entryway one final time. 

_But not yet._

The stormtroopers stood taller upon her return.

“It _was_ Dameron looking for the map. He went to Lor San Tekka’s village only last night. The map to Luke Skywalker may be on the planet still.”

She didn’t wait for them, Kira knew they would follow. She walked back towards her shuttle, breath still shaking slightly. Her pace quickened, wanting to leave the place as fast she could.

But something burned inside her thoughts. A familiar sensation that drummed in the air. The force was ringing around her—she had thought she felt it before, too. 

It was a bitter taste on her tongue: like sadness and fear and droplets of an unnameable hope. It was so pure. She felt her eyes burn under her mask, not for the first time, she was glad to be hidden. 

It was impossible, though, Kira Ren knew the feeling but—there were no more force users besides Skywalker. The First Order hunted them all down.

She turned around quickly. 

A young man with dark hair stood by a barrel helping a woman, handing her trinkets of metal. He looked somber—empty.

The woman he helped walked away. He stood still, eyes following her as she scurried. But then, for a mere moment, he turned and looked towards Kira. 

“AH!” Kira pressed her helmeted head in her hand. A shooting pain flourished through her brain like a chord of lightning. 

A stormtrooper ran quickly to her side. “Kira Ren, are you all right?” 

“It’s nothing, it’s—“, when she looked up the young man was gone, along with his force signature. 

“It’s truly nothing. We must go. Now.”

She didn’t know what had just happened, didn’t know who the young man was, but she knew this wouldn’t be their last encounter. 

If he was a force-user, she would find him. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ben was hidden behind a large barrel to the side of Plutt’s when Kira Ren came. The troopers didn’t see him come. They wouldn’t think someone on this planet would be stupid enough to interfere with their mistress.

He had watched as Kira Ren paced through the doorway like a snake poised for blood. 

He had heard a lightsaber igniting, a sharp gasp—and then nothing. 

He had felt the woman pause before finally leaving the hut again.

When Kira Ren walked out she had wasted no time to speak, and Ben tried to move closer to the sound of her voice. 

“—Lor San Tekka’s village only yesterday. The map to Luke Skywalker may be on the planet still.”

Ben froze. 

The planet very well could’ve fallen apart at her simple words. He couldn’t see the sands or the skies anymore, just swirls and sickening bright light. His palms dug deep into the ground at his sides.

_Uncle Luke?_

Ben’s head flicked back to the figures; they were walking away towards the black ship in the distance.

He looked around the normally bustling Outpost, some beings starting to creep out from their hiding.

Ben’s thoughts still pounced back and forth—

_He’s alive. He’s alive. He’salivehe’salive._

He sprang to his feet and went to the doorway, his hands grabbing at the posts. There was Unkar Plutt, slain with a clean hole through his back over his heart.

He knew it. 

He knew someone like Kira Ren, in the presence of someone so insufferable, would be forced to take matters into her own hands. 

Now, Ben could just fly away with the Falcon now that Plutt was gone—Maker help him for his lack of respect for the dead. Ben turned and stared at it in the distance, glimmering in the sunlight. 

But… Uncle Luke. 

Someone crashed into him before he could formulate a thought. 

“Oh, oh my, I’m s-so sorry.”

An old woman fell down towards Ben’s feet, collecting miscellaneous engine parts that scattered in the sand on impact.

Ben stooped down to help. She winced and looked up—fear and wildness laced in her eyes. 

Ben understood.

“I’m not trying to steal them, I promise.”

The woman looked wary, but allowed him to pick them up.

Ben stood and she followed suit. He placed the items he grabbed into her small hands. She smiled up at him, beaming at the small, kind act.

He felt himself grin, and then realization crashed over him. 

Ben leaned in and whispered, “Plutt is dead, go get the portions you need now, before it’s too late.”

Her smile disappeared. Her eyes went wide, but she nodded. The woman waved and walked away quickly. Ben watched to make sure she was safe as she trudged along the path. 

But something started buzzing—something felt wrong. And maybe not. Something cold and warm, something broken, something kind. It was the force, he knew this.

Ben turned his head towards the feeling. 

Across the sands stood Kira Ren, just looking at him. Ben’s mouth opened. Her metallic mask, void and expressionless, didn’t move from its gaze. Her cape blew lightly in the wind behind her.

And then pain. 

“GODAMMIT!”

His mind burst into flames as he crouched to the ground back behind the barrel. 

He had forgotten to seal his force signature for a weak moment; she must’ve noticed. This couldn’t be good. Ben cursed his Skywalker and Solo blood for the bad luck that just always seemed to follow him.

Despite the pain, Ben jolted up and ran towards the Falcon—he had to hide. 

Whatever the hell was happening, Ben did not sign up for this shit when he got to Jakku. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  
  



	2. A Kind Man

_“People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls.” -Carl Jung_

  
  
Ben raced through the sands, slinking beneath the other rusted and abused ships as he went. His watering eyes squinted towards the setting sun on the horizon ahead, his breaths becoming increasingly shallow. Ben dared to tear his gaze away and look behind him—

But there was no trace of her. 

No chase ensuing. No fight coming. Why? She must’ve felt his presence like he felt hers, she must’ve known what he was. 

Or worse—who he was.

His breath hitched at the burning that crawled up his throat. His tongue tasted like sand and salt, but he swallowed hard anyway. An old X-Wing stood a few feet away from him. Ben flicked a final look over his shoulder and ran behind the ship. 

He squatted low to the ground, watching, waiting. Ben knew better than anyone the fate that awaited Force users under the reign of the First Order. He could still hear the screams. 

He got away from death once, and Ben was sure he wasn’t so lucky that he could do it again. 

A familiar voice spoke from the corners of his memory, ‘Death is like a scorned woman, kid—you can never run too far to escape it.’ His shaking hand settled, and his pulse slowed. 

A roar filled the air around him. In the golden sky, Kira Ren’s dark ship bolted away toward the far off dunes and the bright setting sun. 

Relief pooled into his limbs as he inched from the dust in disbelief, “She...left…”

It was an impossible miracle. Before Ben could even thank the Maker, the sounds of chaos clamored in the distance at the Outpost. 

Metal falling. Screams. An occasional laugh. 

Scavenger after scavenger hurtled their way into the small building that used to be Unkar Plutt’s. Each one of them fought through the crowds that were leaving it. Every departing soul carried away armfuls of portions, parts, and other trinkets. 

But, other bolder ones ran to the shipyard, some passing Ben without paying him a second glance. He shot upright, his eyes jumping from scavenger, to the ship they commandeered. 

He had to go. 

“The Falcon.”

No time to think about what the hell just happened with Kira Ren. He had to get to his Father’s ship. 

He sprinted towards where it was parked. 

A young man that was ahead of him was running towards the Falcon. Ben cursed. He warily extended his hand and pulled through the Force around him. Ben lifted him up into the air. The kid screamed, calling out in a language Ben didn’t know. 

He gently placed him in front of a decently sized Cruiser that was next to it. The boy looked around, completely baffled, shifting his head from side to side.

“Sorry!!! Thank you!!” Ben yelled, but by now the boy already ran into the ship.

Ben reached the Falcon and ran up the ramp. He climbed in quickly, immediately shutting the ramp behind him. 

He pressed his palms against the metal walls and breathed in deep to catch his breath. 

And then he turned.

He saw it. His childhood. His family. Everything, right here in this ship. It was tattered, a little dirtier than his father would’ve liked it—but it was home. 

He walked down the hall with tentative steps. Ben hadn’t been on this ship since he had left for Jedi training. A part of him could’ve cried at the familiarity, at the rekindled nearness he hadn’t felt to anything in years.

The other part wanted to run. 

If there was one thing he had in common with Han Solo, it was his cold feet, ready to flee at any sign of pain. Pain like the feeling of overhearing his parents fight over what was wrong with their son while they thought he was sleeping. Or the way his heart plummeted as he passed by his old bunk where he sometimes spent days all on his own. 

Ben breathed in deep and closed his eyes. There were more important things to be occupied with than memories. 

Uncle Luke.

Ben clenched his fist. 

Lor San Tekka knew where he was. He had the map. If he could reach him, maybe he could tell Ben where to find him. And if he told Ben, he could get him, tell him he was okay, and bring him home. Just like Ben could go home too. 

He would be a hero.

Ben gulped. 

“Here goes nothing, I guess.”

_____________________________________

Kira’s heart was still pulsing furiously, like a caged animal gnawing and beating at its prison bars. She looked out at the horizon and hoped that time would stop. 

A piece of her history was just destroyed. By her. 

She should’ve been happy. He was gone forever, that pig that used to ensure her daily misery—but the beast in her chest still clawed away. 

And now Lor San Tekka. 

Kira didn’t need a map to know where his village was. She led her forces in the direction of the sun and knew his small settlement would be there. She’d find it right where she had left it, basking in the deep glow of the sunset. 

Lor San Tekka was the only source of goodness she had known as a child. He was the first one to teach her about the Force.

She still could remember the day when he first found her—scrounging in the dunes by her mangy home. She was starving, desperate for anything she could trade for a portion. His village was nearby, and he walked over the sands to meet her. He strolled with a smile on his face, as though she was a long lost friend and not a filthy urchin. He stretched out his arm and handed her a slab of warm bread. It was smart to be skeptical on Jakku, to not trust handouts or kindness—but she was so hungry that day. 

She allowed herself to be brought to the village, and he even told her she could stay. But a desert rat knows its place, and hers was not there. She would come visit from time to time, though. Each trip was marked with smiles, a full belly, and learning more than a child of Jakku could dream of.

And now he was what stood in the way between her and finding Luke Skywalker. 

Kira crossed her arms, holding her shivering body. She clutched to the dark fabric of her cape, forcing herself to not give in to the stinging in her eyes. Snoke knew this trip would be difficult. He said it was the upward climb to reach their destination, “One step closer to seeing your grandfather, child. Make him proud to see you, his last family. Kill the last of your weakness in Jakku.” 

The words thundered through her mind. She shuddered.

Kira had to continue, no matter what.

Footsteps whispered down the dark corridor. Kira straightened her slumped shoulders, finding her tight jaw aching beneath the mask. 

Behind her, Captain Phasma stalked into the room. Her footfalls stopped, “We’re approaching the village, and the Resistance craft is in sight.” Kira turned to face her. She continued speaking in a quick huff, “Should we engage immediately?”

Kira paused and tilted her head towards the windows, looking out over the sands painted red and lavender by the sky. Her heart fell at a speck that laid in the expanse below. An old AT-AT slumped into the sand.

Home.

“Kira Ren?”

She jerked her head back to the captain. Her metallic foot tapped impatiently against the ground.

“No,” Kira breathed, “stay out of sight until the sun is down, they’ll only be more defenseless then. Nowhere to run. And the rebel boy won’t be leaving just yet. But keep his ship in sight.” Kira froze and then continued, “The sun will only take a few more minutes to set.”

Phasma lifted her head ever so slightly to the ceiling. She replied icily, “Very good, Ren.”

She exited the room, leaving Kira alone with only the clanging echoes of her boots. Although Kira never could read Phasma’s face under her own shining helmet, her tone was crystal clear. 

Weak. Inexperienced. Too young. Too timid.

“GAHHHHH!!”, Kira’s fist met the cold wall of the ship. It hurt like all hell, but she blessed the pain. 

Always too weak. Always too much. Always too little. Never, ever what she needed to be. That was all Kira Ren would ever be. 

She would have to fix that. She would have to be better. Not acting like the starving child who used to wander this horrid planet.

The remnants of her headache pounded, and she opened her gloved palm, looking down at its emptiness. 

She thought of the boy she saw at Niima. He intrigued her, with a force signature that felt so chaotic and so familiar. Empty as her palm.

He would have to be found. Have to be caught. Maybe even killed. 

But she would let him be free another day. It was almost encouraging to know she wasn’t the only forlorn Force user in the galaxy. 

For now, she simply took deep breaths, dreading the moment she would look her old friend and his villagers in the eyes and decide their fates.

_____________________________________

The Falcon felt like another limb in Ben’s grasp. It obeyed his every twist and turn, push and pull. A wide smile grew on his face—even though he was probably flying to a huge mistake. 

The last bit of light was leaving the sky. It was purple and warm, so calm and perfect. But at Lor San Tekka’s village there was sure to be trouble. If Kira Ren had beaten him to it, there would be mayhem. One could only hope she would spare a good man like Lor San Tekka, though goodness certainly meant nothing to a soldier of the First Order.

Ben had met the man once before when he had come to Jakku with Uncle Luke. He led people in the beliefs of the Jedi religion and was as peaceful and kind a man as you could find in the galaxy. Now he could be forever lost, left to rot in the blistering Jakku dunes he stupidly loved.

Ben accelerated the Falcon a bit more at the thought. 

He could remember his younger self being annoyed at the old man’s kindness. Always letting himself be used and taken advantage of by scavenger after scavenger. But whenever he voiced his aggravation to his Uncle, he would just smile at him.

Now Ben understood. Lor San Tekka’s way was the real Jedi path all along.

Ben still knew how to get to the village. He hoped that Kira Ren would be lost in the desert to buy him more time with the guy.

When Lor San Tekka’s was visible in the distance, the starry night had overtaken the sky, and the First Order had apparently just landed. The ship sat perfectly at the entrance of the village, smoke still drifting in the air around it. 

Ben feared the worst had already come. 

He lowered the Falcon and positioned her discreetly behind a large dune far enough away. The Solo’s were no experts at stealth, but this had to be his only shot. He exited the ship on foot and snuck closer to the warm light of the village, concealing his Force signature as he went. 

The fear came when Ben heard no sound. No voices, no screaming, no nothing. He approached and crouched down low. 

Then he saw them. By the fire’s glow, a large crowd of villagers stood. Across from them Stormtrooper’s waited, armed and ready to kill. In the middle were two figures, both cloaked, but one in pure black and the other in brown. 

Kira Ren had found Lor San Tekka. 

He moved closer to the light, shifting through the lanes of dark huts and stands. Ben finally could hear the voices of the two. Kira Ren paced as the man stood still before her. 

“You are no different than I remember you, old man,” Kira paused, “a few more wrinkles around your eyes, though.” Her tone wasn’t cold, it was distant and weary. Ben clutched to the wall beside him and leaned in.

“I seem to recall someone telling me I smiled too much.”

Kira stopped her pacing, “That child is dead.”

Lor smiled, “I don’t think she is.”

She ignited her saber and growled, “Where is it Lor?! Tell me where you’re hiding the Resistance boy and the map to Skywalker!! You know I will have my way!!” She extended her left palm toward him. She meant to show her strength, but Ben couldn’t help but notice the tremble in her outstretched arm. 

Lor wasn’t scared. He looked up into her masked eyes the whole time, and he spoke, “You're not the weapon you think you are. You don’t have to do this for them, Rey.”

Rey?

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!!” Kira Ren jerked her arm quickly, shoving a large nearby cart with the force into the wall adjacent to Ben.

Kira looked toward it for a moment and then twirled back to Lor. 

“Do not play games with me. I know you have the boy and the map, and I will kill every last villager here, and then you, until you give them to me.” With that, Kira raised her blade overhead, but made no effort to complete the motion.

Tension passed through the crowd. Ben’s hand extended to his saber. 

Lor still looked at Kira with a sad smile, “I should’ve made you stay. I always wished you did, child. I loved every moment with you.”

Something snapped in Ben, a powerful dam breaking, like he wanted to burst into tears or smile or just run away. He couldn’t control it. He clutched his shirt and shut his eyes tight, a few tears leaked out as he did. 

Ben opened his eyes again and saw Kira still standing with the double-bladed saber to the sky, but her other arm fell limp at her side.

A small, lethal light pounced forward toward Kira Ren from somewhere beside Ben interrupting the scene. 

She was too slow and noticed too late. But the blast didn’t reach her. Screams burst from the crowd. Lor San Tekka stood, arms held out wide in front of her, a hole in his abdomen flowed with blood and smoke. Kira stood motionless. The man’s body trembled in front of her, still fighting to stand. He turned and looked at her. Ben swore he could see a smile on the man’s face. Then he fell to the ground at her feet.

‘No. Not you too.’ Ben shifted uncomfortably. A voice. Terrible pain. 

“NO!!!” A young man came running to them. His dark curls shook as he ran. He continued, this time shooting again at Kira Ren directly. She was ready now though. She stepped around Lor San Tekka’s body. Her palm reached toward the shot and froze the beam in midair.

Ben’s jaw was clenched, his fists balled tight to his sides. He couldn’t hide the unarmed tears that came from his eyes. 

Kira gracefully flung the shot into the sky. She now reached for the boy with the Force. She jerked him forward in the sand and sat him on his knees. He continued to cry and scream in pain until he was still.

She lowered herself to look at him.

Kira tilted her head, “Are you happy? You must’ve thought you were going to be quite the hero. Killing me while my back was turned—like a coward.” She spilt out the last words. “All heroes are cowards and fools on pedestals. You are no different, I’m sure. And now you’ve just made my job easier.” She motioned towards the man laying behind her, but her voice didn’t sound grateful. “Now where is the map?” 

“I’ll never...tell you anything.” His words came out painfully, but Ben recognized the voice now. It was Poe Dameron.

Damn it, Dameron. 

“You don’t need to tell me anything. I will have what I need. Take him to the ship!” She yelled in an angry gruff toward her troops. 

With that, a few troopers grabbed him by his arms and dragged him to the ship ramp. Poe’s face was blank. 

Ben could only stand and watch as the moments passed by slowly. 

Kira Ren still stood by the fire near the dead body of Lor San Tekka. 

“Kira Ren, what of the villagers?” A shining stormtrooper asked her. 

They all stood waiting for judgement, trembling and crying from what had just transpired. Warmth spread through Ben’s chest. Then peace.

Kira turned to face the crowd and yelled, “You will live to see another day, but remember—it was the Resistance that took this man’s life, and the First Order that spared yours!! Do not let time forget that!!” She turned away with a flurry of her cloak and stomped up the ramp.

The silver stormtrooper looked up into the sky and then followed behind her leader. The small army she brought with her then marched up as well. 

Ben’s mouth dropped. The ship lifted from the ground and left in a powerful gust, blowing Ben’s hair from his face. 

Kira Ren had let them all live. Lor San Tekka died for her. What in Maker’s name just happened?

After a few moments of the First Order being gone for good Ben emerged from the shadows. He walked to the crowd that all stood in mourning around the man. He tapped an older creature on the back who was the most composed, “Excuse me, I saw a commotion from out in the dunes, is there anything I can do to help here?”

The alien smiled sadly, “No, son, what is done is done. Please go in peace.” 

Ben wanted to object but walked away obediently.

Then he heard them whispering as he sulked away into the night, “...there must still be good in that sad child.”

Ben had no map to his Uncle, and no answers to him still being alive. But he did wonder about the curious night that just passed, and why Kira Ren knew Lor San Tekka and somehow earned his final kindness. 


End file.
